Zerrikanterment
by MRWolve124
Summary: This is set after the ending of Witcher 3 Wild hunt, with the yen and Ciri empress ending. Geralt is out on his last time on the path just before he retires with Yennefer on their house on the mountains near Dol Blathanna. He meets an old friends who comes back after a contract. He is then lead to a series of events that would be another crossroad for his life and Yennefer's
1. A Viper on the Road

Chapter 1: viper on the road

The night was dark and the full moon was shining brightly in the night sky. It was a perfect time for a vampire attack or a Nightwraith snatching the soul of the next villager unlucky enough to wander tonight. Even a pack of wolves would be aroused by the morose glow of the azure moon. Perhaps in the age of old, when every villager feared the stillness of the night knowing the horrors that lurk within, this would be the perfect night to satiate their ungodly appetites but the world was changing, creatures of the night have no place in this world.

In a town south of verden, just above the yaruga, the people are just as afraid. Not of the darkness and its promise of ekkimeras or wraiths or the deep forests where leshens ruled and fiends rome about or the howls in the distant mountains. No, the common folk do not fear monsters anymore and when people aren't afraid they are less keen on parting with their gold.

"A hundred florens for a half-century old leshen" said the white haired man with a scar across his face. His black black jacket half opened exposing his chest covered in bandages. Across him sat his two swords, one silver –for monsters- one metal. –for humans-

"I guess this will have to do. Two days in this god-forsaken village and 5 days worth of supplies. This won't even be enough to repair my jacket. Damn crows pecked the right buttons" growled the man while looking at his coin laid in front of him.

Just a few more months of travel he thought with both sadness and excitement. This is his last year on the path for he had promised that he will spend the winter with her and all winters to come. He had promised to run away from the world with her. The thought of it filled him with excitement overcoming his worry for the meal after tonight.

His path was clear, from vizima he was to head south to cintra and then east to toussaint then finally going north of the yaruga to rivia and stopping in a the elven capital of dol blathanna. Just a few more months and he can see her again fulfilling his promise of running away and hanging his sword. They could live again, like they have in the lake. Away from the world but not truly alone. The prospect of a life away from fighting brought his mood up significantly. It certainly shoved aside the fishy contract for the half-century old leshen.

All this thinking and counting made him thirsty. He signaled the innkeeper to bring him some mead and a warm bread. The mead was too bitter and the bread was not warm. He thought of demanding a replacement but he knew that this was all he could afford. As he was about to take a bite thedoor opened and a huge bulky man came inside. He almost did not fit in the door so he had to bow his head a little. His clothes were dirty from travelling. He clearly came a long way. In the back of his head two sword handles could be seen and rom his neck hung a medallion with the shape of a viper.

Geralt did not have time to look. Before he could turn his head the man was already standing behind him. He heard his footsteps, heavy but with a certain finesse. This man, he thought, had great foot work for his size. He could smell from him a faint smell of mud and blood. All of this brought about by his heightened senses. Amidst the cheers of peasants drinking in the distant table. He heard the man behind him clear his voice and began to speak.

"It wasn't easy finding you, wolf" said the big bald man. His voice was coarse and with a certain accent. The white haired man need not look to confirm who he was. He knew that voice. He had met him once while on the path. Even more strange circumstances brought them together but he knew he could trust him. After all he helped protect Ciri against the wilf hunt.

"Letho" said the white-haired man.

"Geralt" replied the big bald man.

"You're a pleasant surprise. I would offer you a drink but as you can see my pouch isn't brimming right now" Geralt replied with a smirk.

"I did not come here for a drink Geralt, I wouldn't have tracked you from Dol Blathanna just to share a drink with you." Replied Letho while signaling for the innkeeper which Geralt did not recognize. Before he could complain, Letho assured him by bringing out his pouch. "On me" geralt stayed silent.

A few moments later 2 tankards of wine and different plates came to their table. Geralt did not have time to eye each one. He need only smell to know that this was the best the inn could offer. They drank for a while and started to talk about contracts they have taken while on the road.

"A hundred florens for a half-century old leshen. No wonder you can barely afford a warm meal" Letho exclaimed with an arrogant look. Geralt not minding his tone. "I get by every day. I swear, the villagers are becoming more confident with haggling for prices. But they have the right to. There are less and less monsters each passing winter."

"We are a dying profession" said Letho with a straight face. "Indeed we are"

"Enough small talk. Tell me why you are here, Letho. Seeing as you started taking contracts means only that Nilfgaard doesn't want anything to do with you anymore" Geralt suddenly shifted to a more serious tone. Letho still with a very stark face. "Is that it then? My head for yours? If so then le-" Before Geralt could finish Letho changed his expression into a quaint smile.

"Relax Geralt, no one here is out for blood" said Letho calmly

"Then I see no other reason for you to be here, much less track me down" Geralt still not convinced. He was eyeing Letho making sure his hands were far from his swords. He knew to not be Decieved by his size.

"The white wolf still as stiff. If you insist on discussing business then let's. " Letho said while his grin faded into his usual calm face.

"You see before the wild hunt arrived in Kaer Morhen, old man Vesemir and I had a talk. It seems he was aware of who I was and what I did. Even so he told me something I did not expect. He hired me for a job." Letho paused to take a sip from his mug. Geralt not looking at him. He was busy eating what he thinks would be his last warm meal for the next few days. "Paid in full" continued Letho while he signaled for the barmaid to bring more wine.

"What was the job? I don't imagine Vesemir having a monster problem that he'll need you to fix" interrupted Geralt.

"The job wasn't for a monster. It was a missing person or at least I thought. Turns out the person wasn't missing but was just damn hard to find –even harder than you."

"A good story. Still don't see why Im involved" Geralt said still feigning indifference.

"You see, the old man's condition was, if the battle turned out badly for him or if news were to reach me that he is dead" said Letho without indicating any sign of empathy. "I were to keep my word and seek out this man. And so I did, after the battle I immediately set off to find him eager to keep my word. After months or tracking and interrogation, I found him"

"So you've completed your word to the old man. Good, may his soul lie calmly with the great mother Melitele or the forest nymphs or whatever ploughing god the old man believed in" Geralt not meaning what he said. Still trying to mask his interest. "You still haven't told me who helped you with your Nilfgaardian problem

Letho ignored Geralt's constant interruption and continued, "This man as it turns out, was quite rich and powerful. He had ties to all kinds of people. He solved this problem of mine and in exchange I did a few jobs for him. I'm on my last job. Understand Geralt?"

Geralt did not. All he could do was stay silent. Too many thoughts in his head.

"You are not the only one who wants to hang their scabbard. I have seen enough of this world and the world has clearly no need for our kind anymore. I have been to Dol Blathanna. Who do you think I first went to know where to find you? It was a nice quiet house deep In the mountains. You'll have plenty of time to do your business there uninterrupted"

"Enough prying with my life. This last job of yours, what of it" Geralt said, getting impatient from all this talking. "You are here so the last job has something to do with me. You don't want to kill me so either you have something for me or you want to bring me somewhere"

"Neither. The man simply asked that the two of you meet. Plain and simple" Letho's words sounded of assurance but Geralt is suspicious, not of Letho, but of his employer.

"And who is this man I'm supposed to meet?"

"That is not part of the contract. Meet the man and he will tell you everything."

"How am I supposed to meet him when you barely told me anything. A name would be a good start"

"Just continue your journey to wherever you were headed. That's what he told me to tell you" Letho said with a monotonous look in his face. Geralt was used to this. Witchers, after all, are not famous for their emotional depth.

"This all seems strange, so strange. You know this is my last time on the path. I don't plan to spend my winter in some dank castle of an unknown lord who ordered a bruxa dead or to lift a curse cast by one of his mistresses. No, I have plans and I'm only on the path for old time sake." Geralt paused, doubting the sincerity of his words. He suddenly questioned his intentions. He could have just as easily went to their house in the mountains and spent his remaining days instead he chose to hunt monsters for another season. Then he remembered, it wasn't his idea. It was Yen's. She wanted to give him a chance to live his life as a monster hunter for one last time. He didn't understand why, but neither did he want to argue. So he took her advice, as it always was.

"You know that I don't have the answers for that. This is a contract and the contract was to find you and make you agree that you will look for him. So agree, Geralt. I am not concerned with your reservations, simply not part of the contract. I'm sure you understand."

"Fine. If it's on the way I see no harm. Consider your contract fulfilled." He sighed while Letho stared at him with a slight smile.

The bald Witcher stood up and leaving a few florens on the table. "Farewell Geralt. I wish you a happy hunt. Don't get killed, for her sake." He heard him walk away and heard the footsteps of the horse as Letho rode off. Geralt sat their motionless contemplating his words. That contract, no matter who that man was, was essentially Vesemir's. He had many reasons to reject it but the mere mention of Vesemir's involvement changed how he saw the contract. He was the closest thing he had to a father. He felt that he owed it to him to at least see this contract be done. This could very well be his last contract and a contract from his mentor would definitely be memorable. She would understand. A few more months delay wouldn't hurt. He reasoned to himself half-doubting his thoughts.

"After all these years, the old man still looks out for me." He said with a slight smile in his face.


	2. The Lioness

Chapter 2: The Lioness

The smell of a hundred incense floating in every crevice of the room. He looked around eyeing the room for any indication of candles or incense, there was none. All he could see was fog. Or perhaps a mist. Regardless of what it was it blocked his sense of sight in an unpleasant and invasive manner. His heightened sense of smell was contrasted by his dulled sight. A single waft and he could extract at least 20 different herbs mixed with the scent. He had little time to analyze each smell for in front of him appeared a figure.

There was nothing else to see in the room –or at least he couldn't see anything-

huge figures which he deduced to be in the form of beds and cabinets and anything else was a silhouette hidden behind a curtain of smoke- and the figure. The figure stood before her, unmoving and devoid of any warmth. She was dressed in very fanciful clothing that it took him a second to realize who she was. He did not see any distinguishable features but he knew who this was, it was her ward, Ciri. He moved closer, the image got clearer. Her face in silent agony, of loneliness and uncertainty. She was certain this was her, Ciri the young Witcheress-in-training and soon to be empress, not of appearance but of gut-feeling. That was all he had because the figure in front of her was a stranger. This was not the little girl he trained. This was her majesty, Cirilla Fiona Elen Rianon, queen of Cintra and empress of nilfgaard.

He wanted to speak but his chest tightened the more he tried. The fog acting as a net of chain constricting his whole body. It had crept up to him and embraced him in its musky curse. He was weak. Weak and powerless he thought to himself. And as he began to wallow in self-pity and curse his inability. A slight blue flicker, then a huge orange ember. Ciri burned before his very eyes. Without a sign of struggle or suffering she disappeared into the flames. He stood and watch still weak, still powerless.

The nightmare caused the Witcher to flail about and shout as if resuming the actions he could not initially complete. "Ciri!" He shouted. The stillness of the night absorbed his words, quickly replaced by the howling of trees.

It has been three days since he left the village in Verden where he met Letho with a proposal he couldn't turn down. Convinced that the contract was indeed Vesemirs will, he agreed with it despite his previous reservations. A lot of things still in his mind and a lot of questions still left unanswered. He sighed as he lay back down to his travelling bed.

He thought about what Letho told him. About how powerful and well-connected his employer was to actually be able to absolve Letho of his warrant. He didn't want to think about it anymore than he already had. There were a lot more things he should look forward

to. His last days in the path shouldn't be spoiled by one contract. He has done dozens of contracts in his many years as a Witcher, how should this one be any different, he thought to himself. This naivety will soon cost him dearly.

The roads were mostly quiet from the time he rode until now, which was around noon. Too quiet even but he had no more worries in his mind. The serene and quiet road enveloped him like a cocoon rejuvenating his memories. The road south reminded him of his past travels with his companions Dandelion, Milva the huntress the great vampire Regis, the Vicovarian Cahir and the Cintran Angouleme who looked very much like Ciri. Their rag tag _hansa_ composed of different characters with a common goal but not all of them met a fitting conclusion.

The Witcher had hoped that they would meet again in a different road and in different circumstances. Perhaps have a toast of Regis' extraordinary moonshine. But there was no way for that to happen anytime soon. The thought made him remember their sacrifice to help save Ciri. There was no way for him to ever repay them for their sacrifices. They were his companions and all that he has of them were memories. Memories that he was glad he regained.

Geralt was so lost in his thoughts that he barely realized the sun was setting. The serene and quiet road became a dark melancholic serpent which went on for miles. He had been riding all day and roach's pace has been greatly hindered. He looked around searching for a place to set up a fire and spend the night. Another night under the stars, he grudgingly thought.

He successfully set up an ample fire, enough to keep him warm for the night. He had a few more bread and a piece of meat from a rabbit he caught the night before. Travelling alone made him more weary than usual but he liked the solitude. It made him realize that although he does not admit it, he loves being on the path. Sure it may be hard but this was the life he knew for the past century. The thought of this being his last time on the path affected him more than he would like to admit.

Letho's words distracted Geralt's mind. Professional curiosity as he might call it. He could not help but wonder what contract awaits him. The only option now is to find this man with no name in his destination. He continued with his dinner and afterwards laid still in the bed forgetting the nightmares he was enduring for the past few days.

He awoke. At almost the same manner as he had the few nights he was visited by the same nightmare. Each ending with a burning Ciri and him standing there powerless and weak. The vision forced his body into action. It was always like this, every time he was violently awoken by the dream and in a few minutes he would forget. The Witcher tried very hard to remember the dream. The nightmares weren't simple dreams, he knew this as much.

This phenomenon has happened before. This was how he knew Ciri was alive after the events in Thanned and it proved to be true. He believed that this was their destinies being intertwined. This fact did not comfort him in any way.

The fluff of the bed was alluring, it invited a deep slumber. The invitation was even sweetened by the scent of incense enveloping the whole tent. It was useless, however, for the person it was intended to subdue was awake and about inside the tent.

The ashen-haired women kept pacing back and forth. She was wearing a nightgown that was made of silk and adorned with petite lace decorations. The dress was befitting of a princess however the wearer is in no way befitting of that title, at least by the way she walks. She walked with a manly stance and at the end of her pacing she would turn with a pirouette. This moment of pure grace was the only sign of elegance in her, the handmaiden thought. Sometimes she herself would doubt the validity of her claim to the throne but her subversive thoughts ended there. She was solely loyal to her royal highness.

The ashen-haired lady stopped and stared at the handmaiden with a scowl. The handmaiden regretted doubting her. One look from those emerald green eyes, Reassured her that this was the lion cub of Cintra.

"Is there nothing left to do here?" Spouted the ashen haired lady. "Shall I look for more books in the library, your majesty? Surely the scribes have." replied the handmaiden while avoiding eye-contact with the lady in the nightgown. "Regina." Interrupted the lady, "Please, drop the formality. I'm not some snot nosed brat from a noble family. I'm your friend and in the confines of this tent and anywhere where only the two of us can hear then you may call me by my name, Ciri."

The handmaiden was silent. Reluctantly, she said "but you're not just from any noble family, your Majesty. "Enough, you shall address me by Ciri and that will be that". Ciri said in a very commanding manner. She smiled when she remembered where she learned this. She was convinced that her rendition was still inferior to that of Yennefer.

Ciri noticing her pacing has stopped, continued. The hand maiden has thought of something. Perhaps it was too dangerous and she knew it was exactly what the princess was looking for. Regine approached her still unsure about her decision. She whispered her idea to the princess. After hearing the words, Ciri could not contain her smile. "Let's do it" she said with a grin.

The camp was absurdly large. Around a hundred soldiers that acted as personal guards were camping close by. A little farther was the convoy of the 7th regiment that will march further north.

It has been a few days since the full moon and the night was still not as dark. Most of the soldiers are asleep and only those assigned for patrols were awake and viciously drunk.

This situation proved advantageous for Ciri and Regine. They were able to quickly avoid the patrols and safely enter the woods from the east. The duo began to move quietly avoiding unnecessary commotion.

"Are you sure it's this way? I can't smell any damp from the air" asked Ciri. "Just a few more steps to go, then you shall see." Replied the handmaiden with a humble gesture.

After a few more minutes of walking they arrived at a clearing. It was beautiful and calm. The trees blended together almost forming a circle and in the circle flowers bloomed. The glow of the moon emphasized the color of each petal. The duo sat in the middle of the circle, still and silent. They took it in without saying a word for fear that speaking would unbalance the serenity of the place.

Ciri lied down and closed her eyes. She did this to strengthen her hearing and hear the bristle of the trees, the insects thriving in this gargantuan forest and the breathing of her friend. She opened her eyes to look at Regine. Still and heavy, like a marble painting. Her face not showing any emotion, only concentration and her eyes intently focused somewhere far. At first Ciri thought she fancied a flower or perhaps the scenery has absorbed her but another look confirmed her suspicion that what Regine was gazing at was something distant and intangible, a memory.

"We should get back. We still have an early ride tomorrow" Ciri said to distract her friend knowing the memories were starting to get unpleasant. "You could always ride the carriage" replied the maid. "The carriage? And be treated as a high nosed noble? No way. Tomorrow I will go back to my people and they shall see me ride from the gates with my head held up high. I'll let them know that the lion c… no the lioness of Cintra has come home."

The duo traced back their path and entered the tent undetected. They have avoided any form of security and was sure that no one knew of their midnight walk. Their assurance was dumbfounded.

Inside stood a woman slightly taller than Ciri, only because of her boots that rose 3 inches high. She had ashen-hair and emerald eyes. Her face was fair and flawless unlike Ciri's scarred face. Her age could not be gauged just by looking at her but it was undoubtedly ripe. She turned around and with her turn came a scent strangely familiar to ciri. The woman walked closer and stood in front of the princess.

She stared at her with contempt. Ciri, for some reason, looked away.

"I was very worried. When I came here, not a single soul was present. Then, when I looked around and found that your most loyal handmaiden was missing too, I knew exactly what was going on." The woman spoke in a very calm manner accompanied with a certain sharpness in her words. Ciri could not reply, she was at a loss of words and she still did not understand why.

"We are so close to our hometown, please do take care of yourself my dear. Our emperor would be very disappointed if anything were to happen to you. _I_ would be very disappointed and deeply saddened. Do you understand, dear?"

The Ashen-haired lady stared at her with her emerald eyes. Ciri was stunned and for the third time could not help herself. Sweat was pouring all over her body. The stare of those emerald eyes commanded her. She understood what she meant. She knew what she wanted to hear. She wanted this feeling of submission to end. She replied.

"Yes mother, I understand"

The events of the night almost made her forgot why it was that she couldn't sleep. Now she was forced like a child. The fatigue from her walk, the softness of the bed, and the soothing scents did not help. The sands of the night devoured her into a deep slumber.

The same dream had haunted her for days. Whenever she awoke all traces of it was forgotten. She had no idea what it meant but the feeling of helplessness she would feel after awakening from her nightmares assured her that it was not pleasant. This night was different. Tonight she will remember and tomorrow she will understand – she hoped.

A room filled with smoke. The strong scent of verbena and fool's parsley was permeating the walls. A bed and wardrobe on the far side of the room where the candles were abundant. The light of the candles barely piercing the shroud of the smoke. Beside the window stood a women with Ashen-hair. A huge scar across her eyes of emerald hue. She wore such fancy clothes. She was no doubt a princess. She was staring out into the night, engrossed by its beauty. Behind him stood a man with cat-like eyes. He stood motionless as she slowly turned her head towards her. A great orange fire stood between the two of them.

And she burned.

The sun had barely risen but a trot of a horse could already be heard. Luckily the road was even quieter than the first. The Witcher rode on peacefully.

One benefit of him forgetting his nightmare was that he did not have to worry about it by day. This gave him his much needed focus to stay on track. Right now, the only thing in his mind is his desire to complete Vesemir's contract so he could finally spend his days in retirement. In order to do that he needed to first meet this mysterious employer that Letho spoke of. Luckily he would not have to ride any longer. He was near his destination.

He could already see the silhouette of the damaged walls of the city. After many years of war, he was surprised there was any left. This sight indicated that he was a few hours away from the city. This meant warm bread, fresh wine and, if he is lucky, a warm, dry, place to sleep.

He was a few moments away from Cintra.


End file.
